


The Hunter

by CastielWinchester96



Series: Deaf!Sam Verse [44]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x11, Deaf, Deaf Character, Deaf Sam, Deaf Sam Winchester, Episode: s11e11 Into the Mystic, Season 11, Tag to 11x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:32:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielWinchester96/pseuds/CastielWinchester96
Summary: Sam meets Eileen.





	The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> " " - indicates speech  
> ' ' - indicates signing

Sam looked up at the sign above the front entrance of the retirement home.

'This old people home?'

"Maybe we ought to make a reservation." Dean smirked.

'We not live long enough'

"Always looking on the bright side, right, Sammy?"

"We have one thing on our side though. With those hearing aids of yours, at least you're gonna' blend in." With that, Dean walked off towards the door.

Sam scowled, but after a few seconds of self-consciousness, put his hands up to his ears and took out his hearing aids, dumping them into the pocket of his suit jacket.

* * *

The smell of the place hit Sam immediately, causing him to grimace.

Having saw this, Dean tapped his brother on the shoulder.

”Come on, Lassie.”

The eldest Winchester walked over to an elderly woman being interview by the police and began to listen in to her account of the previous night. 

‘You interview other’ Dean followed the signs with a circular motion towards the residents and staff.

Sam nodded.

* * *

One lap around the retirement home to familiarise himself with the place later, Sam entered one of the corridors close to the main reception area and noticed a staff member cleaning up.

“Excuse me. Ma'am?” He called, putting a hand to his neck to make sure his voice carried.

She didn’t respond.

Removing his hand, Sam approached her.

”Excuse me.”

Sam tapped her gently on the shoulder which immediately caused her to startle.

”Oh, sorry. I just have few questions I like ask you.”

The woman furrowed an eyebrow with a look of slight judgement, an expression that Sam, was certainly accustomed too after many years of public interaction, but still found incredibly rude.

“Yeah, anyway. Were you here on night of murder?”

“Can I see some ID?”

Sam nodded, taking the badge from his suit jacket. “Special Agent Butler, FBI.” He then looked back up at the woman opening and presenting the badge to her.

She still looked confused, but a little less expressively than before.

“Do you know anything what happened last night?”

“Sorry. I wasn't working last night.“

“How about night Harold Miller died?“

The woman shook her head.

“Oh, okay then...” Sam looked at the staff member’s name badge, something that he realised he probably should’ve done sooner. “Marlene. Thank you for your time.”

Walking away, he grit his teeth, taking a deep, angry breath. He didn’t know why the looks the woman had shot his way were aggravating him so much, but he didn’t care regardless, knowing that he shouldn’t let random stupid people get to him.

As soon as he began to approach Dean, it was clear that his big brother senses had already pricked up.

”What happened?”

Sam waved a hand.

”It fine.”

”Doesn’t look fine. And where are your hearing aids?”

”Just talk to rude woman who made me feel deaf, it fine, nothing I not used to.”

”You want me to have a word with this lovely person?”

”No! D’n, that even worse!”

”You shouldn’t let people just get away with treating you like that, Sammy.”

”Whatever. What you find out?”

“Well, ghosts don't feed on busted-open heads.”

”So no ghost.” Sam nodded.

“I'll go check with the coroner, see if, uh, anything was missing from our first vic's brain.” Dean stated. “Fingers crossed it’s zombies, and we can get our” Walking Dead” on. And while I’m doing that, why don’t you have a look around the place, see if there’s anything weird?”

Before Sam could reply, Dean was already facing away from him dialling the number of the coroner.

Sam sighed before walking off.

* * *

After aimlessly wandering for a while, Sam felt a rattling vibration underfoot. Peering down the end of the corridor, he noticed the woman from earlier pushing her laundry cart towards one of the rooms.

The act appeared normal, but the number of times she was looking around, as if to make sure she wasn’t being watched, struck Sam as odd. 

After the woman entered the room, Sam quickly crossed the corridor and made his way into the room.

The lights were off inside before Sam found the switch and turned them on. This caused his gaze to immediately fly to a sigil painted on one of the metallic drums by the wall.

He furrowed an eyebrow, having not seen the type of sigil before. Seconds later, he found himself flying the short distance behind himself and the metal drum, held against it with a supernatural bond he was only too familiar with.

Sam looked up to see the woman standing beside the far window of the room where another matching sigil had been painted. The cut on her hand, and the blood in the middle of the pattern gave Sam all the context he needed.

He smirked. “And here I was just thinking you rude.”

”Shut up!”

The woman crossed over to him slowly, producing a gold blade.

Sam’s eyes widened as he struggled against the bond. 

“Dressing up as FBI to cover up your kills? It’s almost clever. Never met a Banshee who could blend in.”

”Banshee? Is that what this is?”

It was the woman’s turn to scoff.

”Like you don’t know. You were the one who murdered those people.”

“Wait. What?”

“I read your friend's lips. ‘It's feeding time’.”

”’Read my friends lips’... What?” The cogs began to turn in Sam’s head before his eyes widened. “No! No, you have it wrong. W-we not Banshees. We hunters. He my brother. W-we all hunting the same thing here.”

The woman didn’t look convinced.

”You deaf right?”

”That is none of your business. It has nothing to do with this.”

”That why I thought you being rude. You not meaning to be, I just talking to you like hearing person. That was concentration mixed with trying to piece together what I’d said. Trust me, I get it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sam looked almost giddy with the concept presented before him. Another deaf hunter.

The woman picked up on this.

”Why are you smiling?”

”Because you amazing.”

”Excuse me?”

”So it Banshee? How you work it out? Can I see your research?”

The woman, frustrated by how the conversation had turned, grabbed Sam’s hand and sliced her blade across it.

”Ahh!” Sam moaned. “I not Banshee.”

The woman then moved the blade up to a close proximity near his neck, causing him to wince.

”Look, please, I can explain, just don’t do this...”

Sam was cut off as he found himself free from the bond. He turned to see that the woman had cut away part of the sigil.

He smiled and turned back to the woman.

’S-A-M—W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R’

She looked confused yet again.

”You’re deaf?”

Sam nodded.

”I don’t just wear these for fun.”

The woman furrowed an eyebrow before Sam remembered he’d taken his hearing aids out earlier.

”Oh.” Taking them out of his pocket, Sam popped them into his ears. “Tah dah.”

She smirked.

‘E-I-L-E-E-N—L-E-A-H-Y.’

Sam grinned.


End file.
